He paused by a large painting, recognizing the rocky coastline of Puffin Island. He was no expert, but even he could see the composition was good. She’d captured the feel of the island perfectly, the sweep of a sandy bay, the movement of the sea and the threatening hint of a storm in the sky. Looking at it, he could feel the salty spray on his face and hear the plaintive call of the gulls.
He felt a pang of longing for his cottage on the wild north coast of Puffin Island. In a few days he’d be going back there and he’d be staying for a month. Long enough, he hoped, to finish a draft of his book. He was looking forward to the solitude.
The painting had a red sticker, which meant that someone had bought it.
Good choice, he thought, and then saw the tall, elegant pot in a dazzling shade of cerulean blue placed under a spotlight against a whitewashed wall.
Instantly he was transported to Greece. He could almost feel the heat, and smell the scent of wild thyme and jasmine.
Of all the pieces in the room, this was the one he would have chosen to take home. He could see at a glance that her inspiration had been a combination of Greek mythology and early Minoan ceramics. She’d artfully combined the old with the new and created a piece of startling beauty.
The crowd thinned a little more, but there was still no sign of Skylar.
A movement in the street caught his eye and he saw a tall, dark-haired man stepping into a waiting car.
Recognizing him, Alec frowned. Why would Richard Everson be leaving alone?
He waited for Skylar to come running after him, wearing that skintight silver dress and a megawatt smile, but the car pulled away with only one passenger.
Ignoring the voice inside him that reminded him it was none of his business, he moved silently across the gallery toward the door he’d seen her enter.
He tapped lightly, received no answer and opened it anyway.
The room was empty.
It was clearly a storeroom. There were paintings against the wall, a table stacked with boxes and—
A body.
Shit.
“Skylar?” In two strides he was by her side. “What the hell happened here? Speak to me. Are you—?”
He tilted her face and his hand came away sticky with her blood.
Her beautiful white-blond hair was streaked with it, her lips bloodless in a face drained of color.
His heart pounded. Whatever he’d expected to find, it hadn’t been this.
“Sky? Open your eyes.” He tried to scoop her up and then dodged as she swung her fist toward his face.
“Touch me and I swear the next thing you feel will be my stiletto in your balls.” She slurred her words and Alec swore under his breath and captured her wrist in his hand before she could do him serious damage.
“You might want to work on that pickup line, princess.”
Her eyes fixed on him and focused. Confusion changed to recognition. “What are you doing here? Did you come to gloat?”
“I saw Richard getting into a car and came to check on you. Good thing I did. I’m taking you to hospital.” Questions rose in his mind. What had happened? And why had Richard Everson walked out leaving her like this? He delved in his pocket for his phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. And the police. Did he do this?”
“No. I fell. And I don’t want you to call anyone.” She struggled to sit up, her efforts giving him a glimpse of long legs and silk underwear.
Her body is the biggest work of art in the place, he thought, and averted his eyes.
It irritated him that he found her attractive.
“You had a nasty blow to the head. You need to stay where you are.”
“People have to stop telling me what I need. I know what I need. Crap.”